


After-Effects

by Angstqueen



Category: Counterstrike (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, First Time, M/M, Male Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 22:52:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angstqueen/pseuds/Angstqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things change for Peter and Stone after the events of the episode "DOA".</p>
            </blockquote>





	After-Effects

**Author's Note:**

> 1) This story was originally published in the Neon Rainbow Press zine One in Ten #1 under the pen name Lee Seibert. 
> 
> 2) This story is set after the aired episode, "DOA," in which Peter is injected with a poisonous compound and given 24 hours to live unless a witness against a known terrorist is released. Stone kidnaps the witness from protective custody, and arrives at the exchange location, where the rest of the team and the woman who injected Peter are waiting. The ex-SEAL manages to free the witness, tricking the woman and handcuffing her to him. He reveals that he's wired with explosives, set to go off at the deadline of Peter's 24 hours. She believes he's serious enough to do it, and tells them where the antidote is in time to save Peter.

 

_Peter Sinclair watched blurrily as his teammate grabbed the woman terrorist's wrist, bringing her closer._

_"I told you I wasn't bluffing," Stone warned.  "You're goin' with us."_

_Her eyes widened in fear as the timer strapped to his chest blinked to one second._

_"No-o-o!!"  Gabrielle's scream felt like it pierced his eardrum, but it paled next to the explosive blast that rolled over them._

_He barely had time to register that he alone had survived the blast before the final effects of the poison overwhelmed him._

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

          Sinclair woke bathed in sweat.  He quickly looked around the small compartment, grateful to find himself alone.  The quiet murmur of voices told him Stone and Gabrielle were out in the main room, probably going over reports.

          "Damn," he whispered, running his hands through damp hair.  The dream, or a variation of it, had started a couple days ago, upon his release from the hospital.  In each version, he watched Stone die.

_Oh, come on, laddie!  Don't tell me you're trying to figure out why it disturbs you so much?_

          The voice startled Peter at first, then he groaned in frustration.  "I thought I'd seen the last of you."

          His alter ego quirked an eyebrow at him.  _Apparently not, since I'm here._   Strolling over to lean against the opposite wall, he continued, _Stone means a great deal to you._

          The conversational tone set alarm bells ringing in Peter's mind.  "He's my teammate.  Of course he does."

 _Ah._   The other man didn't look convinced.  _Are you sure that's all it is?  Concern for a partner?_

          Frustrated, Sinclair snapped, "Well, what else _would_ it be?"

_Oh, you tell me, laddie.  This is your subconscious, after all._

          "Get to the point!"

_Oh, no.  I'm not here to tell you what you're thinking.  I'm just here to help guide you._

          "This is insane!"

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

          Hearing Pete's raised voice, Stone and Gabby exchanged worried glances.  Gabby had told Stone about the times she'd overheard Peter talking to some invisible companion while the poison had ravaged his system.

          "I thought he'd stopped having the delusions," Stone said.

          "Maybe he's just talking to himself," his blonde companion shrugged.  "That's not unhealthy."

          The ex-Seal winced as Pete's voice rose another step.  "Maybe not, but I don't think yelling at yourself is very productive."  He climbed to his feet, walking toward the door.

          "Stone, wait—"  Gabby scrambled out of her chair, following him.

          "What?"

          She looked slightly uncomfortable.  "I just don't think we should charge in unannounced.  You know how Peter can be about his privacy."

          "Okay, fine.  So we knock."  He pounded loudly on the door to the sleeping compartment.  "Pete?  You awake in there?"

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 _You promised me you'd try to lighten up_ , the alter ego accused.  _So far, I haven't seen much sign of that!_

          "Give me a chance, for Christ's sake!  I only left the hospital two days ago."

          His "guest" nodded.  _Plenty of time to take advantage of what's been staring you in the face the last several months.  In my opinion._

          "What the bloody hell are you talking about!  I wish you'd just go away and leave me to live my life.  In peace."  Sinclair rubbed at his temples, trying in vain to alleviate the growing headache.

_Ah, but it's our life, if you'd kindly remember.  And I do have some say.  But very well.  If you insist on remaining blind, I'll spell it out in a name.  Stone._

          "Yes, so you've said before," Peter hissed through clenched teeth.  "I still don't—"

_Oh, really?  You mean to tell me you haven't noticed the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is paying any attention?_

_And the fact that he would've died with you if that little bitch hadn't given up the location of the antidote doesn't mean anything either, I suppose?_

          "I've told you.  We're partners.  Besides, I still don't know for certain if those grenades were live."

 _You know bloody damned well they were, Petey.  It's why you keep dreaming about them.  You know he would have followed you to the death, and you can't figure out why, can you?_   Pushing away from the wall, Peter's alter ego leaned over the bed, staring Sinclair in the face.  _Or rather, you don't want to face the facts._

          "What facts?!" Peter all but bellowed.  "Just what are you trying to say?"

          The alter ego wore an infuriating grin.  _All in good time, old son._

          A knock, and Stone's voice, made both men look toward the door.  The alter ego finally whispered, _He loves you more than his own life, laddie.  And not as a brother or a partner._  And with that, he vanished.

          "Pete?"  Stone's voice again.

          "Peter, are you all right?  Unlock the door."  Gabby's voice, urgent with concern.

          Sinclair stumbled to the door, shaken by the conversation.  More than anything his alter ego had said in past visits, this made the most sense, and scared him beyond reason.

          He knew letting Stone in could be dangerous, given what his alter ego had said.  But keeping him out didn't appear to be an option either as another knock, this time more insistent, rattled the door.

          "All right, all right!"  He tried to inflect the right amount of ire as he flipped the lock and opened the door for them.

          "Hey, you okay, buddy?"  Stone's anxious expression greeted him.

          Gabrielle explained, "We heard you yelling—"

          Sinclair nodded.  "Yeah.  I, uh, had a bit of a nightmare."

          The ex-Seal cocked his head, unconvinced.  "Must have been a doozy, the way you were yelling."

          "Stone!  After what he's been through, it's no wonder," the journalist defended.

          "Hey, I'm not sayin' he can't have nightmares.  It's the brain's way of blowing off steam when you can't do it any other way, right?"  He looked more closely at his friend.  "Wanna talk about it?"

          Peter flushed, grateful for the indirect lighting from the main compartment.  "No.  Yes.  Ah, hell, I'm not sure…"  He looked at Gabrielle, then quickly looked away.

          Sensing Peter might talk more freely if she left, Gabrielle said, "Listen, I have to check some details before we speak with Mr. Addington.  If everything's okay here–?"

          Sinclair smiled, seeing through the lie.  "Thanks, Gabrielle.  I'll be fine."

          She walked out into the main compartment, shutting the door behind her.

          Switching on a small overhead light, Stone asked, "D'ya want me to go, too, Pete?"

          "No."  The blond shook his head.  "I don't think I want to be alone just now."

          "You sure it's just the dream?  You look a little shaky."  Stone grabbed his friend's arm, steering him toward the bed.  "Sit down."

          Sinclair normally would have protested such heavy-handed tactics, but for once it felt good to let someone else take charge.  He perched on the edge, watching as Stone joined him.

          "Gonna tell me about it?" the ex-Seal finally asked.

          Blowing out a heavy breath, Peter said, "You know the routine, Stone.  A too-close-for-comfort brush with death, and for the next week or so you're dreaming of what might have been, if…"

          "That's normal enough," Stone agreed.  "Being so close to death, your mind keeps replaying it, or variations—"

          "But it's not my death I keep seeing," Sinclair rasped.  "It's yours."

          "Mine?"  The other man's confusion showed plainly.  "Why me?"

          "My guess is it has something to do with the grenades strapped to your chest," the blond noted wryly.  Then, anger set in.  "Were they real, Stone?  Would you really have done it?"

          The darkness helped hide the other man's expression, but his flat, expressionless voice spoke volumes.  "I told you, you don't want to know.  Let's just leave it at that, okay?"

          "No!"  Sinclair shook his head, adamant.  "Not okay, mister!  What the hell were you thinking?  Or were you thinking at all?  Not only would that blast have killed you and that woman, but most likely Gabrielle, as well.  I suppose I didn't matter, being nearly dead already.  And even if it hadn't killed Gabrielle, did you give any thought to what it would have done to _her_ to lose both of us?  And at the same time?"  He didn't raise his voice.  He didn't have to, the clipped words clearly showed his anger.

          The ex-Seal looked away, unable to meet Peter's gaze.  "I've been the last man too many times, Pete.  I couldn't face it again.  Not when it meant losing you.  So I did the only thing I could, I took a gamble.  I'm sorry it had to include Gabby, but I didn't think I had a choice."  He briefly met Peter's gaze this time, and the raw emotion made Sinclair suck in a deep breath.

          "It didn't happen, Stone," Peter finally whispered, reaching out to grab his partner's arm.  "Not this time.  We cheated them."

          "I know," Stone managed.  "And with any luck, you'll be around to give me hell about it for a long time to come."

          Sinclair felt an almost numbing cold quickly wash over him, then watched as his body moved forward, pulling Stone into a hug.  _You, again?_ he thought, sensing that this time, words weren't necessary.

 _Back off, mate!_ his alter ego warned.  _I worked bloody hard to make this happen, and I'm damned well going to enjoy it!  Especially since you won't!_

 _Oh, I don't know,_ Sinclair sent smugly.  _This is rather nice._

          "Pete?" Stone hesitated, then returned the hug, not questioning further.  He knew how close to the edge his partner had been, and how such experiences can change a man.  "It's okay, buddy.  We made it."

          "Too damned close, though."  The blond pulled back, searching for something in his companion's expression.  Not giving himself time to think, he leaned forward, brushing Stone's lips with his own.

_Bravo, laddie!  I didn't think you had the bottle to actually do it!_

          The ex-Seal jumped back, startled at first.  Then he became the aggressor, cupping the blond's head to bring him closer for another, deeper kiss.

          Sinclair moaned low in his throat, and Stone released him immediately.  "I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have—"

          Peter laid two fingers on his lips, silencing him.  "Shhh.  In case you couldn't tell, that wasn't a protest."

          "Pete?  Are you sure?  I mean, you've never seemed, uh, that is—"

          "Are you saying you don't want to?"  Sinclair's heart nearly skipped a beat.  What if he'd misinterpreted the looks he'd been getting from Stone?  Could it be just wishful thinking, incredible as that seemed?

          "No, I ain't saying that."  Stone refused to meet his gaze.

"Then what?"

          "Ah, hell!"  The ex-Seal tossed caution to the wind.  Pulling Sinclair closer, he kissed the other man almost savagely, then ground out, "You'd better be damned sure this is what you want, Pete, 'cause there ain't no turning back from here."

          The blond grinned, all teeth.  "As sure as you are, Stone."  And he suited actions to words.  Awkward at first, he nevertheless set the pace for their loving.  And though he'd had never had sex with a man before, he knew how to treat a lover, and they climaxed within heartbeats of each other.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

          An eternity later, Stone asked, "What the hell did we just do?"

          Laughing softly, Peter replied, "Do you want the biological explanation?"

          "This isn't a joke, Sinclair.  Not to me."

          The tone set off alarm bells in Pete's mind.

_Proceed with caution, laddie.  He's no cheap tart to be screwed and left behind._

          For once, he had to agree with his alter ego.  "You're right.  It's not a joke."

          Frustrated, the ex-Seal snapped, "Look, I know why I wanted this, but what about _you?_   I mean, unless I read my signals wrong, you've never been with a guy before, right?  So why now?  Why me?"  He sat up, putting distance between himself and Sinclair.

          "Fair enough."

          Peter heard a mental chuckle, then, _Ah, now this could be interesting!_

          "Coming so close to death made me realize there were a lot of things I'd always wanted to do that I'd never done—"

          "So I'm an experiment?!"  The outrage in Stone's voice made Sinclair wince at his choice of words.

          "No!  I've seen the way you look at me, Stone.  And it's made me think, and wonder.  There's always been a part of me, buried deep inside, that's been attracted to men.  But I never felt I could let those feelings surface, so I found a way to live with them.  Until I met you."  He studied his partner intently.  "I remember thinking you had to be one of the most arrogant, cynical, untrusting bastards I'd ever met—"

          "Gee, thanks.  You're really makin' me feel good here, Pete," the other man grimaced.

          The blond continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, "But when you became part of the team and I got to know you better, I realized that was a front.  You care more than you're willing to let on.  And recently, I got a graphic demonstration of just how far you'd go for someone you love."

          Stone shifted position at his partner's words, but didn't challenge the statement.

          "I almost died, and you would have died with me rather than be left behind.  That's given me some sleepless nights, until I figured out that it's mutual."  He paused, considering his choice of words.  "Physical expression seemed the best way to show how much I care."

          A guarded look shadowed Stone's features.  "So, it's just a one-off, a way of sayin' thanks?"

          "I didn't say that.  I'm _not_ saying that."  Sinclair reached out to gently brush his partner's face with the back of his hand.  "I enjoyed it.  I'd like to do it again.  But it's your choice, too."

          "Y'know, being involved with someone you work with isn't always a smart idea, Pete.  Leads to all kinds of traps and pitfalls.  I mean, what about Gabby?"

          The ex-Met detective gently kissed Stone before responding, "She's French.  I doubt she'll be too shocked."

          "Okay," the dark-haired man reluctantly grinned, acknowledging the truth in that, "but what about the boss?  How's he gonna take this?"

          Sinclair sighed in frustration.  "Are you planning to make a public announcement, Stone?"

          "No."  The ex-SEAL sighed.  "Seems like you have an answer for everything."

          "I do try."

          "You're a surprising man, Peter Sinclair."

 _Ha!  He doesn't know the half of it!_  the voice snickered in Pete's mind.

 _Shut up!_ Sinclair scolded.  _This is my life now.  I'm taking it back.  Go find someone else's to meddle with._   Reconsidering his hastiness, he added, _But… thanks._

_Anytime, old chum.  I'll be around if you need me._

          "Pete?  You okay?  You seemed a million miles away."

          "I'm fine.  I was just thinking how if I hadn't almost died, this might not have happened."

          Stone shivered.  "I'm not one to look a gift-horse in the mouth, but I could've done without the drama, Pete."

          "Amen to that."  This new relationship, born out of the ashes of near-death, had yet to pass the acid test of day-to-day living and scrutiny, but Sinclair felt sure they would handle it as they did most everything else.  Together.

 


End file.
